


Order up

by ramblingAnthropologist



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Mass Effect 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblingAnthropologist/pseuds/ramblingAnthropologist
Summary: Alistair Shepard’s policy on cooking could best be described as ‘scorched earth’ and ‘total disaster’. Luckily, the Reapers didn’t destroy pizza delivery when they attacked in 2186. It’s a weird retirement, but it’s his. Luckily, he has someone to eat pizza with, even if that companion is a wise ass.Day 20 and 21 for Inktober 2018. Prompts: Breakable and Scorched





	Order up

**Author's Note:**

> This was my most popular Inktober work, so it should go here. 
> 
> Obviously Shepard survived ME3. I didn't play like a pro all 3 games to have him die before my eyes. Eat my entire ass, BioWare.

Ok, who was the genius who decided that things you cook with could be so goddamn breakable?

Honestly, it was a miracle he hadn’t lost an eye from the flying glass that had once been the measuring cup. Alistair was bleeding, sure, but it was only flesh wounds. The worst was in his hand. With any luck, he would only be picking glass from it for the next hour.

At least he remembered to turn the stove off this time as he backed away from it towards where he kept the first aid kit. Last time… well, he didn’t want to think about that. Bo was still calling him an idiot over it.

“Oww.”

His classmates were often surprised he still felt pain. According to them, all his nerves should be used to it after being buried in the Citadel two separate times. Technically, it was only once with this body – that was something else fun to explain to them – but apparently it still counted. Unfortunately for him, he did still feel pain perfectly well in the parts that were still fleshy. Maybe he had less of them than most people, but they felt it well enough to make up for his missing limbs.

It took some fumbling to get the first aid kit open, but thanks to his prosthetic arm he was soon picking through it. A small amount of medigel was resting on the table as he grabbed for the tweezers he kept in there. Maybe not the best for picking glass out, but he had an edge.

Technically, biotics weren’t exactly approved parts of medical procedures according to one of his teachers, but they weren’t here and his good hand was fucking bleeding everywhere. It was good to feel that hum as his implant kicked in. Really, it had been too long since Alistair had last used them. Civilian life didn’t exactly provide many opportunities for implementation, especially since humans were still a little leery about their own species making shit float. With all the exploding eezo since the reapers hit in 2186, more were starting to pop up. Not nearly as much as other species, but they might beat the turians out in twenty years.

It was always fun, beating them in something.

“Oww… shit.” Even with biotics, Alistair had to fumble with the tweezers to get one of the smaller chunks out of his hand. But it came out, and that was good enough for him. Now there were only a few more pieces, and those were bigger. They’d be much easier to get out.

A few more plucks, and soon his entire hand was covered in medigel and patched up with bandages. Alistair finally breathed a sigh of relief as he sunk back into the couch and closed his eyes. Clearly he was getting soft if this bothered him.

Though, after killing a shit ton of reapers, maybe he could allow himself that. After all, it was 2189 and  the fact they could continue to date shit on the calendar was a miracle in itself.

He stayed there on the couch for a few minutes, quietly resting his eyes. School was wearing him out a little, though it wasn’t as bad as 2186. Nothing could ever be as bad as that. Still, it was nice he could still feel stressed out about things. It made him feel human.

Just like the hypo that was starting to set in was making him feel. Right… he had been making food before all of this.

It took him some doing, but soon he was shoving his emergency sugar supply into his mouth. Brain functions would come back in a few moments, but until then he was pretty useless. So, back to sitting on his ass it was. No problems there.

Really, he had been trying to make dinner to avoid his homework before all of this. Clearly, he was getting back into the swing of being a student again with flying colors. It wasn’t quite the military retirement he had expected – he hadn’t thought he’d make it at all, actually – but it was how his life was going. Maybe he had taken a bit longer to get there, but he was there and that was all that mattered.

“Maybe I should give up on the cooking thing for tonight though…” he had enough scars as it was. Plus, with his last test results, maybe he had earned a little pizza. That order was easy enough to put through. Now he just got to sit back and wait.

And… maybe start on that homework he had been putting off. That was the trade off, wasn’t it?

Honestly, Alistair tended to lose track of time when he was studying. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour. The thing that pulled him out of it was a knock on his apartment door. Well, that and his growling stomach.

“Be right there!”

He still had a bit of a limp – therapy couldn’t get rid of that completely. But his prosthetic leg was doing a good job of getting him around. Maybe it wasn’t quite Spectre quality, but he was retired. At least that  was what he told himself as he stood up from the couch and made his way to the front door at a slightly reduced speed.

Much to his disappointment, it wasn’t pizza waiting for him. However, Garrus fucking Vakarian definitely was a nice surprise.

Alistair didn’t even think – he launched himself at the turian with the speed of his Alliance days. He didn’t quite manage to knock his fiance to the floor, but at least he put in a good effort regardless. Garrus managed to catch him, and the two were against the wall. It was only decency and the reminder they were in the fucking hallway that kept them from, well, trying to fuck in the hallway.

Also the fact Garus fucking Vakarian was in fucking Baltimore when he should have been on Palaven. That was a bit of a kicker.

“Good to see you too, Al.” That was the first thing he said when he didn’t have a tongue in his mouth. It had taken some doing to stop making out with him, but that was the price he paid for getting some information. “Guess I don’t have to ask if you missed me?”

Alistair snickered as he nuzzled into Garrus’ neck – not to make him totally horny or anything, there were children in the apartment down from him after all – and kissed him lightly over some of his older scars. Really, he would have thought he was dreaming. But his injured hand was aching, and so was his bad hip. Those were both great reminders he was awake.

“Ass. What the hell are you even doing here? I thought you said they were running you ragged back on Palaven.”

The turian responded by clucking like an unholy 7 foot chicken. The translator made it sound like laughter, but enough time around him had taught Alistair otherwise. Though Garrus said he didn’t sound like a chicken when he laughed, he totally did. Lucky for them both, it was kind of cute too. He needed to do it more.

That was probably where he came in, being Mr. Vakarian’s fiance and all. Laughter was kind of his department.

“I may have moved some things around. After all, isn’t your birthday tomorrow?”

Fuck, was it?

Garrus saw the look on his face and laughed even harder. “You forgot your own birthday again, didn’t you?”

“No.” The blushing gave Alistair away. Though, he eventually relented and grinned sheepishly. “Ok, maybe. School’s been keeping me kind of busy.”

He chuckled as well, but that amusement turned to embarrassment as he heard someone clear his throat off to the left. When he turned to look, he blushed even harder. Garrus might not have been the pizza guy, but said guy was definitely there now.

Now what did he want more? His fiance, or food. Processing… processing… yep, the hierarchy of needs won out. Food it was.

“Uh… be right over.”

Garrus was nice enough to not laugh his turian ass off right away as he lowered him to the floor. Alistair was still blushing scarlet as he limped off to pay for his dinner. Sam – yes he knew the guy’s fucking name, he saw him enough to know it – was doing his best not to laugh too. He did shoot him a knowing look as he handed over the food and departed. But then he was gone.

And… well, food.

“How many times this week have you ordered pizza?” Garrus was following him back into his apartment. The turian at least didn’t look too shocked when he saw a similar box in the bin next to the door. “What a surprise, only once.”

If he was trying to get fucked that night… well, that was probably going to happen anyway, but he was pushing his luck for sure.

“I may have had some issues in the kitchen.” Alistair scowled a little when his fiance snickered. “What?”

Garrus was nice enough to help him grab a plate, but that was also because he wasn’t allergic to levo food. It didn’t do much for him nutritionally, but he could definitely steal at least a few slice and not have to worry much. And again, did pizza do much nutritionally for people who could eat it anyway?

“Al, your cooking strategy is scorched earth.” He stole a slice and quick kiss before Alistair could swipe him away. Briefly, it made the human wonder what he was actually saying – no way the turian military strategy would have referred to such a timeless classic with anything to do with their recent love/hate relationship partner. “What, it’s an effective military tactic. You’ve still got a little Commander Shepard in you.”

Someone else might not if he kept it up… Garrus was lucky he was so damn cute. And he was a welcome distraction from homework. Alistair would have to get back to that later, but at least he had someone to lean against while he did it. That was enough to almost make it tolerable.

He still had to clean the kitchen from his attempts at cooking after this but… well, turians were great at dealing with the after effects of scorched earth policy. Maybe he could get his fiance to do it while he did his homework. After all, he was feeding him. Maybe he hadn’t made it, but it counted.

That was how it worked, right? Damn… he wasn’t so good with this sort of thing. Luckily, Alistair had plenty of time to figure it out. That was the bright side of saving the universe. At least he thought so as he settled in to eat some pizza before Garrus ate it all.

Maybe it was a weird retirement, but he was happy to have it – homework and all. Though, he would have to see if he include that last one by the time he was done. Probably not, but the reapers hadn’t been able to destroy that either. Guess you can’t win them all.


End file.
